


i don't wanna burn out, so wont you please set me on fire again?

by kuklash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Angst, Christmas Party, Exes and Lovers, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Minor Violence, Protectiveness, characters fall on top of each other and have a moment, some strong language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:55:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28294173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuklash/pseuds/kuklash
Summary: The wind nipped at Murphy’s nose as he stood in the doorway of the gas station on the edge of town. Work was slow, as it always was after sundown, especially in the mid-December cold, but someone had to make sure the good townsfolk of Arkadia could get their milk and gas after the small general store closed. All 800 of them. He watched the cars drive by throughout the day, recognizing each and everyone of them. Bellamy’s beat up truck he worked all highschool to afford, Clarke’s clean new sedan, even that jerk Finn’s loud ass motorcycle. He watched them all pass one by one, his old classmates returning home after another semester of college at the University of Polis. The only sign that time was passing at all.The phone inside rang, breaking him out of his melancholy, at least for now.“Great,” he thought, sarcastically. “A phone call 10 minutes before we close.”He walked back inside and put on the most cheerful customer service voice he could muster.“Dropship Gas, this is Murphy. How can I he-”A familiar female voice cut him off, leaving him cold.“Murphy? Thank god!”It was his ex.
Relationships: John Murphy/Raven Reyes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15
Collections: Chopped: Holiday Trope Exchange





	i don't wanna burn out, so wont you please set me on fire again?

The wind nipped at Murphy’s nose as he stood in the doorway of the gas station on the edge of town. Work was slow, as it always was after sundown, especially in the mid-December cold, but someone had to make sure the good townsfolk of Arkadia could get their milk and gas after the small general store closed. All 800 of them. He watched the cars drive by throughout the day, recognizing each and everyone of them. Bellamy’s beat up truck he worked all highschool to afford, Clarke’s clean new sedan, even that jerk Finn’s loud ass motorcycle. He watched them all pass one by one, his old classmates returning home after another semester of college at the University of Polis. The only sign that time was passing at all.

The phone inside rang, breaking him out of his melancholy, at least for now.

“Great,” he thought, sarcastically. “A phone call 10 minutes before we close.”

He walked back inside and put on the most cheerful customer service voice he could muster.

“Dropship Gas, this is Murphy. How can I he-”

A familiar female voice cut him off, leaving him cold.

“Murphy? Thank god!”

It was his ex.

Murphy tried to play it as cool as possible.

“Hey Raven, what’s up?”

“Murphy, I’m almost back into town but I’m running on fumes here.” Raven’s voice was desperate, something that could rarely be said. “Can you please stay open so I can fill up and make it home? I’m asking as a friend.”

Murphy was dreading the thought of staying at work a minute longer, let alone until Raven got there.

“When we broke up, you made it clear that we weren’t friends anymore. Just exes.”

The venom in his voice was palpable, but accidental. He tried to not let it bother him, but the truth was her words back then still hurt him, even 4 years later.

Raven’s exasperated voice rang through the phone, once again breaking him out of his own thoughts.

“Ohmygod Murphy,  _ fine _ . I’m not asking you as a friend, I’m asking you as an ex that sometimes comes back into town and has sex with you. Can you stay open for  _ that _ ?”

“When you word it like that, I sound pathetic,” he lamented, “but yeah, I’ll wait til you get here.”

“Well, you are pathetic, Murphy,” Raven insisted, “but I will owe you one for this.”

Murphy went to make a witty remark, but his breath hitched and the words got stuck in his throat. Raven didn’t wait for a response before she continued.

“I’m hanging out with Clarke tonight, but after that maybe I can head to your place.”

“You never were very subtle, Reyes.”

  
  


“You don’t have to go so soon.”

Murphy could tell his breaking the long silence caught her off guard, but it didn’t stop Raven from putting her pants back on. Her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, but she never turned to look at him, almost like she was refusing to admit she had heard him at all. He watched her pull the black waterfall back into a ponytail before responding.

“You know I can’t do that.”

Her voice was soft and sad, full of regret and tinged with a pain he knew she’d never admit to. Just like always. He sat there for a long time, silent and somber, watching her ready herself for the cold weather. Her eyes never met his.

“I understand,” he said after a small eternity.

But he didn’t. He never did.

She left without another word, and he watched her walk out into the snowy emptiness that made up the outside world until she disappeared into the nothingness.

He closed the blinds and laid back down in his bed. He sat in his own nothingness, surrounded by the sparse furniture and close walls of his small apartment. The tacky wallpaper was peeling and the carpet was stained, but this was home. Between the empty liquor bottles and half drunk glasses of water, there was a subtle peace, however shallow.

Murphy reached over to the other side of the bed and grabbed the liquor bottle off the floor. He may barely have enough money to afford rent, but he could sure as hell afford a bottle of Jim Beam. Murphy drank until he was no longer thinking, then drank some more. The sleep slammed into him, quick and heavy, like a skydiver hitting the ground.

  
  


Murphy was Really. Fucking. Tired of Christmas music. The artificial cheer of the season assaulted his senses every day, never letting him hear or think or breathe anything non-Christmas.

“Working retail sucks, dude,” Miller said succinctly, the words leaving his mouth with the cigarette smoke he had just inhaled. The two of them sat just outside the back door of the gas station, watching the snow fall in white swirls, tangling with the silver smoke ribbons headed towards the sky.

Murphy heard the familiar sound of someone coming into the store, breaking the silent contemplation he and Miller often found themselves in. It was one of his least favorite sounds. He took one final pull from the cigarette before flicking into the snow nearby, letting the smoke linger in his mouth as he walked back into the warmth of the gas station.

He found his familiar spot behind the register and waited for whoever was rummaging around in the beer cooler to approach him. The inherent boredom began creeping back into his mind, and as much as he enjoyed the warmth of the interior, he missed the smoke in his lungs and the comfortable loneliness of standing out back.

The clanging of a six pack hitting the counter returned him to reality and brought him face to face with Raven, her black hair spilling onto her red jacket and her eyes locked onto his. She looked as fierce and stubborn as ever, and Murphy hated that.

“You going to Clarke’s party tonight?”

The question didn’t catch him off guard. After all, it was the only thing to do in town tonight. Everyone was gonna be there. It was the way she asked him, eyes tinged with a genuine emotion he wasn’t familiar with, and a voice dripping in honey. She actually wanted him to be there.

“I don’t know, I’m here pretty late tonight.”

The excuse left his lips before his mind could finish coming up with a response.

He could instantly see the disappointment in her eyes. She made some empty conversation before finishing her payment and leaving. Just another normal customer.

“You really fucked that up dude,” came a voice from the back door.

“Shut up, Miller.”

Murphy didn’t know why he even bothered to walk to Clarke’s place. The snow crunched under his feet louder with each step closer. But his two favorite things were inside: Raven and free booze. As much as he hated to admit it, everything felt a little better when she was around. He thought of her face, bright and shining like the sun, as he rang the doorbell.

As the chime rang out, he immediately regretted everything he had ever done.

Who rings the doorbell at a house party? You just walk in. Everyone knew that. Especially in a small town where no one had moved to town since the Collins did back in Junior year. Fuck.

He was still berating himself when Clarke opened the door, cup in hand, clearly buzzed.   
“Oh, hey Murphy.” The confusion and disappointment melded her face into a familiar expression. It was the same look she gave him every time she saw him.

“Hey Clarke, I was hoping I could crash the party.” He gestured with the six pack of Steel Reserve in his hand. “I brought beer.”

Her face flashed through a million expressions at once, mostly varying degrees of confusion, disgust and pity.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” she said through a fake smile, opening the door to him and motioning for him to come in. Clarke was nice enough, but she was never a fan of Murphy. He’d always known it, but that never made it easier.

He thanked her, somewhat sincerely, and entered the nicest house in Arkadia. The place vibrated with the heavy bass from the speakers, and the Christmas lights bathed everything in a gross golden glow. Murphy couldn’t believe people liked this shit. He walked through the well decorated hallway and into the foyer, which he was sure Clarke pronounced in the pretentious French way. That was when he saw her.

Raven was standing by the kitchen, talking with Harper and laughing. Her smile clearing the fog from his brain and lessening his panic. That was, until she looked at him. Then he started panicking even more. Her eyes flashed him a warm look, and Murphy could feel it in his soul, warming him like a cup of soup on a cold day. As he took a step towards her, Finn Collins walked between them, approaching Raven and leaning against the wall next to her, and Murphy was suddenly flooded with reminders of why Raven left him in the first place.

He remembered her saying she wanted someone who was more mature. She wanted someone who made her feel like an adult. She wanted someone who had a future. She wanted someone who wasn’t John Murphy.

Then he saw Finn try to grab her, and something snapped inside.

Before he knew it, his hand was hurting and Finn was down on one knee, holding his bleeding nose. The murmurs of the crowd were a cacophony of horrific disbelief. But the worst thing was Raven, standing there in shock, staring at Murphy like he was a stranger. It was all too much.

He turned around and left the house, the cold of the windy snow matching the numbness he felt inside. He opened a can of beer and started drinking.

He was deep into the third can by the time he reached his place, but he kept walking. He had lived in Arkadia his whole life, but tonight he was a stranger in his own world, surrounded by a strange, empty land. He made it to Jaha Hill before he finished the six pack, and found himself at the top of the highest point in Arkadia.

“Murphy!”

Raven’s voice pierced the winter silence, and he turned around to find her running after him in the snow, nose red from the cold air. She followed him. She must be so very pissed. She must be  _ beyond _ so very pissed.

“I’ve been trying to find you for an hour! What the hell was that about?”

He was full of anger and alcohol and emotions, and he decided in that split second that he was going to tell her exactly what he thought.

“I love you Raven. I’ve always loved you, but you’ve made it clear that you don’t want someone like me. You want someone with a future and you told me yourself: I have no future.”

“Well, maybe I was wrong!”

He stared at her, cold wind whipping through both their hair. She gathered her arms around herself, holding off the cold.

“Maybe I was wrong,” she said, voice softer. She shifted her weight side to side. “But have you ever tried to prove to me otherwise? Have you ever actually tried to make something of yourself?”

She looked up and her gaze burned into his own. “Have you ever once  _ wanted  _ a future?”

He opened his mouth to say that, of course he wanted a future, of course he wanted to try. But what tumbled out of his mouth was, “I want you.”

Heat ran up the back of his neck, alcohol or embarrassment it was hard to tell. He stammered a little taking a half step backwards.

“Look, I… I’m…”

She took a step forward and he took another step back and suddenly Raven was grabbing for him and they both were sliding against the snow.

They toppled backwards down the hill, rolling over and over through the snow, limbs tangled and hands cold and wet in the slush. Raven landed on top with a grunt and Murphy stifled a groan. Her eyes locked on his.

“Oops.”

Snow soaked through the back of his pants and Raven’s breath was hot against his face and suddenly Murphy started laughing. Full throated laughing. Because what the hell else are you supposed to do?

Raven stared and then her shoulders started shaking, giggles spilling out of her like bright bubbles of warmth. She shifted and he expected her to slide off, but instead she settled her hips more comfortably against his, a different kind of warmth quickly taking over as she leaned in close.

“Murphy?”

“Uh-huh?”

“I want you too.”

Her kiss was hot, searing against his lips. A barely restrained passion and fervor burned behind her eyes as she pulled back, leaving him breathless.

She crossed her arms. 

“You  _ do _ have a future. And I want to be part of that.”

He swallowed thickly. “Okay.”

“But,” she grinned wryly. “It’s time for you to prove it to me.”

Murphy watched Raven drive away, waving from the window of his room. She was headed back to school. She was going to finish her last semester, then come back. But she was coming back. He didn’t have to be alone. He didn’t have to be content with who he was. He could change, not just for her, but for himself.

He grabbed a trash bag and swept an armful of garbage up off his floor. Raven needed a place to come home to, and he would be here. They had a future. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for... Someone I'll name later because this is a double blind event... for the Chopped Holiday Trope Exchange!  
> The prompts I was given included Protectiveness, Exes and Lovers, Small Town AU, and Characters fall on each other and have a moment, with special requests for Angst!  
> I actually really like this fic, and it holds a special place in my heart for being very close to home. I can only hope that the recipient loves this as much as I do.  
> The title is taken from "More About Alcoholism" by Pat the Bunny, a very fitting song about trying to love and find a reason to stay alive when you feel like you can't do either. I felt that it really fit with the angsty Murphy I've crafted here.


End file.
